The Red Electric

From 1915 to 1928, the interurban Red Electric train passed through Hillsdale, now part of Portland. The trip offered a chance for passengers to share their views. My Red Electric blog is a vehicle for web travelers to do the same.

Monday, December 07, 2009

Biblical citations give football a black eye

Much has been made of celebrity quarterback Tim Tebow’s “message” eye shadow patches.

I must not have been paying attention when the Florida player, a devote Christian, put “John” on the right eye shadow patch and “16:33” on the left for millions to see last January in the BCS Championship game.

Or maybe I skipped the game. I can’t recall.

But I did watch Alabama trounce Florida on Saturday. Tebow was at it again — Biblical-wise. And. again, he chose John 16:33.

I confess the eye shadow message was as riveting as the game.

What’s it mean when you can’t watch a simple football game without having some in-your-face biblical passage thrown in your face?

The passage, by the way, is this (make of it what you will):

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But be of good cheer! I have overcome the world.

Does “trouble” equal “’Bama”? Tebow was hardly of “good cheer” following the game. He openly wept at the worldly outcome.

Clearly the NCAA needs to put an end to this eye-shadow non-sense. If this is a free speech issue, where does it stop? Or does it?

Once upon a time, black athletes might well have written “Black”…“Power” on the little billboards under their eyes.

Or, heaven forbid “Peace on”…”Earth.” Or “Love”…”your enemy.”

What’s to prevent a political message: “Vote for”….”Obama” or “McCain” etc.? or “Nix Health”…”Reform.”

Or how about “Drink…Bud”?

And why not allow bumper stickers on helmets too?

No, this needs to stop, now.

Why is it taking so long? Are attorneys lining up on the sidelines?

By the way, I checked to see how that final score of Saturday’s game translates into chapter and verse in the Book of John. The score was 13-32. I was hoping for gridiron epiphany. Here’s what I got:

If God be glorified in him, God shall also glorify him in himself, and shall straightway glorify him.”

A couple weeks ago, out of the blue, PCC’s president announced that faculty would be required to wear badges for security reasons. Apparently the tags would come in handy in “shooter incidents," alerting cops and shooters alike to avoid targeting teachers. (Students, apparently, are fair game.)

The badges, far from protecting faculty from shooters, actually single out teachers as clearly identified targets.

Badges promote a “culture of fear” in “the spirit of George W. Bush.”

Someone in the communications studies department crafted the following, in jest, I hope.

“…in my opinion, the content of (the president’s) communiqué to us fails to contextualize in academic, instructional, and pedagogical terms the need to wear badges when, as he states, wearing such will serve students best and would provide them with greater safety and security while on campus.”

An instructor in the metals program flatly refused to wear the dangling badges “for safety reasons.” (Picture being dragged into a metal press by your ID badge.)

After a few days of withering attacks, pro-badge forces counter-attacked.

Badges needn’t dangle. They can be clipped to clothing.

Name badges are a good way to let others know — your name. (They say, "I'm here to help, and by the way, don't shoot!")

Corporations have used badges for years.

As for the “culture of fear” argument, one person suggested that by not wearing badges would promote the “culture of ostrich.”

Finally, in desperation, someone wrote: “Are there not more important issues? Who really cares about wearing badges or not?”

The debate fell silent after that; a few days of calm ensued.

Then someone wrote to say he had just received his new badge. He wasn’t happy.

His first name was in big letters. In much smaller letters, under it, was his last name. He was concerned that his students would start addressing him by his first name and cease referring to him as “Professor.”

Apparently there are all kinds of fear in a “culture of fear.”

As for me, for years I have insisted my students call me by my first name. My fear has been that they might "contextualize" me as "Professor."

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

Enjoy the game but not the war

Each year at this time I remind fellow Oregonians that war involves maiming, misery and death.

Why do I do this?

Because each year, Oregonians, without pausing, refer to their intra-state rivalry as “The Civil War.” (Surely there is a better name. Suggestions?)

The "Civil War tradition" and casual usage of the name lead to such things a “Civil War Appetizers and Main Dishes” (vis. Today’s Oregonian food section.)

The list of “Civil War” paraphernalia, oddities and trivia goes on and on.

So here’s my reminder: the American Civil War (1861-1865) never came with appetizers and main dishes.

Nor did it involve split ends, cheerleaders (with or without split ends) and tailgaters.

The Civil War did come with death; 620,000 soldiers (the most of any American war) were killed. Hundreds of thousand were maimed. Divisions from the American Civil War remain to this day.

You might give our Civil War history passing thought as you settle into the Oregon State/University of Oregon football game Thursday. When “The Civil War” is mouthed — and it will be endlessly and mindlessly—allow the horror of real civil war to flicker ever-so-briefly across your mind.

That number again is 620,000 dead.

If you are having trouble wrapping your head around it, here’s help: the statistic is the equivalent of every man, woman and child in Portland and Beaverton.

And if you think that’s bad, the Russian Civil War (1917-1923) claimed between 15 million and 20 million lives. A staggering toll.

That’s what civil wars can do.

Now go back to the game and your Civil War cheese dip….

P.S. To readers tempted to write "lighten up" or "get a life," save yourself the trouble. You've been heard in advance. Peace.

About Me

I'm a semi-retired journalist and former college teacher of journalism. Much of my time is devoted to volunteering in my Portland neighborhood of Hillsdale. As a Quaker, I am active in Hillsdale Quakers and in the Multnomah Friends Meeting.